Pregnant Pause
by GingerWitchWriter
Summary: Hermione needs to confirm some suspicions she's had regarding her own health and whilst the results take her by surprise, how is Ron going to take it? Rated T for Ron's potty mouth :p


So...this time last week I was sat in the theatre, watching The Cursed Child...and now I am sat in front of my laptop, posting this story for you! How is it already week? I won't reveal any spoilers, but overall I loved the play! There are a few minor points I don't like and I wish dearly that Ron had more of a deeper role...but the guy playing him, Paul Thornley, is near perfect...as though my imagination Ron had stepped out onto that stage, but I think there's more revealing about his character in what he doesn't say. I also don't think the script alone does justice to the play (and I hate saying that, because I know not everyone has the same opportunity to see it, sorry) But...the special effects, the acting, all of that is wonderful.

Sorry, won't go on further...if you do want to know more though, pm me!

Hope you like this one...it's a bit sappy towards the end, but, you should know I like fluff and sap :p

Thanks as always for all the amazing reviews, I am now trying to reply to everyone who reviews from a registered account, so if I didn't get to you last time, I'm sorry.

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter world and it's character do not belong to me. However, I am tempted to polyjuice myself into Hermione so that I can have Ron!

* * *

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay home with you?" Ron asked for the umpteenth time whilst still hovering beside our bed. His tone was hopeful, almost begging me to say I needed him.

"I'll be fine," I repeated, adjusting my pillows. "And I know you're just trying to get out of work." I gave him a weak, knowing smile.

Ron sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Yeah, but I have two reports I'm probably going to spend the whole day writing up," he grumbled. "I do feel bad leaving you here all alone though."

"Ron," I began, punching my pillow and then laying back again. "I just need to sleep this off, there will be nothing for you to do staying here." I gave him what I hoped was a confident smile as I patted his hand leaning on the covers next to me.

"You have been looking rather tired and pale the last couple of weeks." He spoke softly as he brushed the hair from my face and traced his fingers down my cheek. "Taking a day off will probably do you good." He pushed himself off, causing the bed to bounce as he did before leaning over and balancing on outstretched arms to press his lips against my forehead. "But, I suppose if you really don't need me to stay, I'll have to go get those reports written." He grimaced at the idea.

"Go on, get to work," I told him, waving him away. "Then I can get back to sleep." I pulled the sheets up and snuggled down again.

"All right, love. Owl me if you need me, I'll be in the office all day no doubt," he rolled his eyes. "I love you. Sleep well." He blew me a kiss as he began to back out of our bedroom door.

"I love you too," I replied and watched him reluctantly disappear out the door. I heard the tell tale creek of the third step as he headed downstairs to floo to the Ministry via the large fireplace in our lounge.

I waited a few minutes to be sure he was gone, then let out the breath I'd been holding as I flung the blankets off me and rushed into the bathroom again.

Half an hour later found me sat at the kitchen table peering into a steaming, bubbling cauldron of what could only be described as gloop. My finger ran down all the steps for the potion in one of the many books littering the table in front of me. Open jars, vials, various tools and scraps of parchment covered in my own scrawl filled the rest of it.

I stirred the potion anti-clockwise twice and added the chopped daisy roots as directed in step seven and then left it to simmer for exactly 11 minutes. I read through the instructions again, just to be sure and then checked another book as well as my own notes. I think I had done it right, the mixture already seemed to be thinning as it was supposed to.

Well, I hoped it was right. This might be the most important potion I'd ever make – more important than my NEWT practical final to get right in fact. And as I sat at the table, drumming my fingers against the wood, surrounded in all this paraphernalia I almost felt like I was back at school in my Potions class. I shuddered at what would have been said if I had made this potion back then though – that would certainly have caused a lot of gossip.

I felt bad for lying to Ron this morning, telling him I felt too ill to go into work. I just needed him out of the house for me to do this, for me to check and finally get an answer as to why I'd been feeling so off it the last few weeks. I had my suspicions and I wanted to be sure before I shared those with anyone, including my husband. I hadn't realised he had noticed I wasn't myself though or how pale and tired I'd been.

The china chicken egg holder, which had been a wedding gift from some distant Weasley relative, suddenly clucked loudly beside me, making me jump. I'd almost forgotten I'd charmed it to go off when the 11 minutes of simmering were up. Taking the cauldron from the heat, I peered inside, checking the directions again and stirred another five times, clockwise this time, watching as the potion turned a milky white – the perfect colour according to the book.

Setting down the spoon, I reached for the final ingredient, the sample I had procured in the bathroom earlier and added just one drop, waiting with baited breath, chewing on my bottom lip. This was it, I was about to find out. I checked my notes again and the potion recipe in the book – a negative result would turn the potion clear, back to water. A positive result would colour the potion, depending on the circumstances.

I watched, wafting the steam out of the way so as I could see clearly, and gradually the potion turned a bright pink. Emitting a gasp, I fell back into my chair.

I was pregnant.

Most positively pregnant. And more than that, I knew I was carrying a female...a baby girl. If it had been male, the potion would have turned the stereotypical blue.

I felt rather stunned, even though this only confirmed my suspicious. I had already done a Muggle test – having nipped to the pharmacy near my parents when we visited last weekend and bought a home pregnancy test that I had kept hidden. The result had been the same, positive. Yet I had somehow deluded myself into believing that since I was a witch and my husband was a wizard a Muggle test couldn't be accurate and I had to take a magical test to really know. I now felt rather foolish.

I sat frozen in my seat as a hundred different emotions swept over me – fear, excitement, love, dread, disappointment, elation, until I felt completely overwhelmed with it all. Ron and I had discussed having children – agreeing that a family was something we both wanted. Only, it was something we'd both envisioned happening in the future. We certainly hadn't been trying to get pregnant right now.

I'd wanted us to get used to being a married couple for a few years before we became parents. To spend time simply enjoying being husband and wife as well as all the liberties that marriage allowed. We loved becoming an Aunt and Uncle when Ron's siblings began providing us with nieces and nephews to love and spend time with. But we saw how tired and often stressed their parents all looked, grateful to anyone to take their kids and give them an hours peace. I often caught the wistful glares they gave us sometimes when we mentioned going out for dinner or how we'd slept in until noon on a Sunday – something apparently not privy to new parents. We weren't ready to give that up yet.

Bill and Fleur's girls – Victoire and Dominique were adorable and bossy and kept us amused. And since it was common knowledge that Bill would like a boy, I don't think they were done producing just yet. Percy's eldest daughter, Molly was a sweetheart – taking after her mother more than her father, thankfully. Though he was something of a different man to the person he'd been back in our school years. Percy and Audrey had also just had another baby, Lucy, a couple of months back. George and Angelina's son was a bundle of wild energy – totally living up to his namesake, Fred. Angelina was also hinting at wanting another, right now George was resisting!

We loved and spoiled all of our nieces and nephews, but felt a special affinity with James – Ginny and Harry's now 15 month old son. Maybe it was because Harry seemed more like a brother to me than Bill or Percy or George did. Maybe it was because we were all such close friends and had grown up together at school, and not to mention everything we'd all been through. But, our Godson was special and we spoilt him rotten.

When in Merlin's name had we all grown old enough to become parents? I still remembered Harry as the nervous, skinny little kid sat stuffing his face with his new friend on the train the first time I'd ever met him. And now, he was not only a married man, but he was a dad. A completely responsible grown adult.

And even if Ron and I were a few months older and therefore perfectly of age to become parents as well, that didn't mean I thought we were actually ready for all that. Yes, we loved James and all the children in the family, but that was the best part of being an Aunt and Uncle – you got to give them back. We didn't have to deal with the responsibilities of being a parent. We were enjoying being a fairly newly married couple, free to make love all over the house if we so desired. Free to spend our weekends how we wanted (apart from Sunday lunch at The Burrow – attendance was a requirement when you were married to a Weasley!) But, we were still young, free and I hadn't planned on us settling down into parenthood so soon. That hadn't been part of my three year plan!

Now, four measly months shy of our second anniversary, and I was already pregnant. And judging by my calculations, it was likely I was already six weeks along. Damn Ron and that Christmas do with his work buddies. Why had I allowed him to get me drunk and then spend the rest of the night going at it like bunnies? We'd been having far too much fun that night, and the following morning felt far too awful to stop and think I might need to take a potion to boost the monthly contraceptive potion I now took – because alcohol, just as with Muggle methods, inhibited it. And neither of us had even considered casting the contraceptive charm at the time. So, I suppose we were both to blame for this mess we were in.

Ron hated my three year plan – he argued that life just happened and you couldn't plan everything. Judging by these results, I was going to have to agree with him. And really, was it actually a mess? I was, after all, a 25 year old woman who was in a stable, loving marriage. We both had good jobs with a steady income, we were settled in what we knew would eventually be a family home. It wasn't as though we never wanted children, just not quite yet. So, the timing was a little off – you'd think I'd be used to the fact that our plans never really worked out how I imagined them.

The pink potion swirling in the cauldron caught my eye and I suddenly realised that this wasn't a mess at all. This was a baby – _our_ baby. I was carrying Ron's precious baby girl and in that instant I could picture her already – a bushy head of red curls, his big blue eyes, my nose, his lips. Loving and mischievous, though stubborn and clever – a perfect combination of the two of us. This was our daughter, not an inconvenience. I was rather horrified with myself that I had ever thought that.

I pressed my hand to my flat stomach, awed by what was happening inside me and smiled to myself. Our baby, our sweet baby daughter. Even though I knew the timing wasn't ideal, that we hadn't planned for this right now and that I was unsure of Ron's reaction, I knew I wanted her. I loved her already.

That's not to say I wasn't still scared about it all, because I was, terrified even. I had never considered myself the maternal type – I never really got gushy over babies like a lot of woman did. I actually thought newborns looked a lot like little gnomes! Not that I would ever have said as much to any of my sister-in-laws – I valued my eyes still being in my head thanks all the same! Before we began spending a lot of time with Teddy after the war, I had never even held a baby and whilst I may have a little more practice these days, I didn't really know the first thing about raising a child. Well, I at least knew one thing I'd be doing in the very near future – picking up a stack of books on pregnancy and child rearing.

But, before any of that I had to tell Ron.

I was already regretting doing this when he wasn't home. I needed him here to offer his unwavering love and support, to hold me and reassure me that everything would be okay. To share my news so that I would know he was okay with this, because the slight doubt that he wouldn't be was going to eat away at me until he got home. I knew I could owl him at work and ask him to pop home at lunch, but I also knew that would only make him panic and rush home straight away and then he'd be completely useless for the rest of the day as he digested this news.

I hadn't a clue how he was going to take this development. Would he be happy? Scared? Disappointed or even cross with me? I knew he'd support me in whatever I wanted, because he was just that kind of man, and he had the right to know he was going to be a Daddy. Merlin! I was going to be a Mum! Me, Hermione Granger-Weasley, was going to become a mother in just a few very short months.

I was struck then with a sudden head rush, feeling overwhelmed with it all again. Even though I had suspected it for a few days now, revealing the positive result had been something of a shock! Like I said, this wasn't planned. I stumbled out of my chair, planning to take a spoonful of potion for the headache that was forming and then paused with my hand on the bottle. I didn't know if it was safe to take whilst pregnant, whether it could harm the baby and I wasn't going to do anything to put this little life in jeopardy. It was somewhat sobering to realise just how protective I was over her already and how much I loved her...a baby I had only known existed for less than 20 minutes!

Instead I drank a glass of water and began to clear the table of all the jars and vials and put the books away, deciding to set aside the potion with a concealment charm until I told him, knowing I might need it as proof for Ron. There was a chance he might not believe me, thinking I was winding him up to get him back for the daft prank he'd pulled on me last week with the laundry.

I'd been busy in our office, working hard on my final draft for my proposal's on House Elf Rights to present to the Wizengamot, when he'd come in, really sheepishly and admitted he'd managed to accidentally turn my work robes bright canary yellow in the wash! I had been furious – ranting and raving at him for being so irresponsible and calling him a few choice names as I flew out my chair to check the damage. It was a couple of minutes before I noticed he was howling with laughter at me. I had vowed to get him back, after throwing the entire washing pile at him, but hadn't come up with anything good enough yet.

With everything tidied away, I wandered through to the lounge and curled up on the sofa. The only sounds came from the steady ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece as my eyes focused unseeingly on the crack in the hearth that I kept meaning to fix after Ron had broken it a few weeks ago. He'd been laden down with bags and boxes of his belongings his Mother had sent him home with after clearing out the loft. Unbalanced with the weight, he'd stumbled and dropped one of the boxes, causing it's contents to spill out, including a couple of old bludgers! Thankfully I'd managed to disable them before they'd done any more damage than the crack in the hearth.

I lost track of time as I lay there, lost in my own thoughts. So it was some surprise when Ron suddenly appeared in a flash of green smoke and stepped over the grate, calling for me as he brushed the soot from his clothes, before spying me on the couch.

"Oh, hey. You're up!" He gave me a lopsided grin as he stepped towards me and planted a kiss on my forehead. "How are you feeling now?" he asked, brushing back my hair and feeling my forehead.

I looked up at him blearily, unsure why he was here or what the time was. "What are you doing here?" I asked him, dumbly.

He looked slightly put out by that as he sat on the edge of the coffee table in front of me. "Well, I mentioned to Harry you weren't feeling well and had stayed home. He knew it must be bad if you were taking a day off work!" He chuckled once. "Anyway, he said he'd cover for me so I could have a long lunch to nip back and check on you."

"I hope you're not abusing his new position?" I chastised him, pushing myself up against the cushions. Harry had recently been promoted to mission leader. Teenage Ron might have sulked about that, thinking he was still second best to Harry. The grown up Ron just took the piss out of the fact Harry now had twice the load of paperwork to contend with.

"Hermione, love. If I can't take advantage of my best mate's position at work, then what is the point!" He snorted through his nose.

I rolled my eyes at him.

"Anyway. How are you feeling?" he asked again, moving to sit beside me on the sofa now I'd made space for him. "Did you get any sleep? Must be feeling a bit better if you're up, right? Have you had anything to eat? I can make us some lunch if you..." he faded off and looked at me with a puzzled expression. "Hey! Hermione!" He clicked his fingers in front of my face to get my attention.

I jumped, startled. I had been preoccupied trying to plan in my head exactly what I was going to say to him. "Sorry, what did you say?" I asked, turning to look at him.

He wrinkled his brow as he studied me. "Okay, what is it?" he asked, turning sideways on the sofa to face me. He waited for my answer with raised eyebrows and his arm outstretched along the back of the furniture towards me.

Damn, I should have known better than to try and keep anything from my husband. He knew me too well and he was far too observant when it came to me. After all, this is the boy who had noticed my unusual timetable in our third year. The only one who had noticed my teeth were smaller after Draco cast that cruel jinx on me and I had to get them fixed by Madame Pomfrey in the hospital wing. He always seemed to know when something was going on with me.

"What do you mean?" I asked, folding my legs under myself as I pulled my hair back into a ponytail, tying it in a knot at the nape of my neck.

His eyebrows flashed again, an expression that told me he wasn't falling for that. He knew something was going on and he expected an answer. "Were you really not feeling well this morning?" he wondered, that wrinkle back between his eyebrows.

"Yes!" I answered honestly, because I had felt rather nauseous when I woke.

"Oh..." he uttered and waited for me to continue.

I sighed, knowing I had to just tell him. Get it out there and deal with whatever happened. "But...not the way you think. I mean, I was feeling sick, have been on and off for a few days actually and, I've had my suspicions as to the reason why for about a week or so. I decided to stay home today and see if I was right, about what I thought it was I mean."

"You're not making much sense, love," he shook his head. "Are you ill? Do you need to go to St Mungo's?" He reached for my hand and peered into my face, his expression full of concern now.

I shook my head. "Not for a few more months anyway. Though, I suppose I will have to see a healer for check ups and..." I stopped when I saw he was still waiting, somewhat impatiently, for me to clarify things for him. Okay, I thought, here it goes. "Ron," I began, turning to face him head on and squeezed his hand. "I...this morning, I did a erm, test...and, well…you see," I groaned at myself for the way I was stumbling over my words.

"Whatever it is, tell me!" He was beginning to look rather frantic now, eyes wide and biting the nails of his free hand.

I gave him a brief smile, hoping to put him at ease him a little. "I'm...pregnant!" I blurted out.

Ron's mouth fell open as he stared at me. As frozen as if I'd hexed him with the stupefy curse.

I just watched him closely for a couple of minutes as he sat in stunned silence. I wasn't sure whether he was going to pass out or something. Eventually he opened his mouth, frowned and then closed it again. He did this a couple more times, but no sounds came out at all. I was starting to worry.

"Ron," I put my hand on his knee. "Please, say something. Anything?" I begged, squeezing his knee slightly.

"Erm...lunch!" he blurted out and made to scramble off the sofa.

"Wait...hang on," I grabbed his hand and pulled him back. He fell backwards with a disgruntled grunt. "Did you hear what I just told you? I'm pregnant, we're going to have a..."

"I have to get back to work!" He jerked his hand out of mine and shot up off the sofa, taking just two large strides to reach the fireplace. "I mean, I, erm..." He glanced around frantically, avoiding looking at me as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"You said Harry gave you a long lunch? And you haven't even eaten anything yet. Please Ron, I need to talk about this with you. I know it's rather a shock, but...it is what it is. I _am_ pregnant and we're going to have a baby girl!" I repeated, shouting after him as he grabbed a handful of floo powder and stumbled over the grate in his haste to escape me. "Ron!" I yelled, trying to grab for him, but he was gone. Leaving me stood in our lounge, all alone and confused.

I stood there, in the middle of the room for some moments, feeling almost as bereft as I had that time he'd left us in the tent during the war. When he ran out on us despite my chasing after him, screaming his name. This time though, he had no Horcrux to blame his actions on, he wasn't overly stressed, anxious or starving – he had simply freaked out on me and ran. Inexplicably, I burst into tears then and threw myself back onto the sofa. Idiot! My husband was a stupid bloody idiot!

Once the tears dried up, I wondered vaguely if he hadn't heard me correctly, maybe he had suddenly remembered something urgent at work. And then I realised I was just making excuses for him. Ron had freaked out over the very thought of becoming a parent. It was obvious to me this wasn't what he wanted and he was clearly not thrilled with my news. I put my hand to my stomach again, letting the little one know that even if her Daddy was an idiot, Mummy was here.

I suppose his reaction should have been somewhat predictable. I mean, he had reacted strangely when Harry and Ginny announced they were expecting. He'd gone quiet and sulky for days and kept making odd mutterings about something being the end of an era. I think he thought he was losing his best mate to a life of domestication and he was feeling left behind. Eventually he came around and now I was confident in saying he was James' favourite uncle and he loved doing things with the little boy – he talked all the time about how he couldn't wait until he was old enough to take to a Quidditch match and constantly wound Ginny up about how her son would be a Chuddly Cannons fan! He certainly bought the little boy enough of the teams merchandise.

I hoped he'd come around to our news a little sooner and that he'd realise all those things he did with James and looked forward to doing, he'd now be able to do with our own child. I'd seen him with children enough to know he'd make an excellent father.

You'd think I'd know my husband well enough by now to remember that this is what he did when new revelations were sprung on him – he panicked and ran off, giving himself time alone to process it and come to his own conclusions. Then he'd come crawling back and somehow make up for it. I was just going to have to be a little patient with him, it's not as though I hadn't been stunned and a little negative myself at first. I'd give him a couple of days, if he hadn't come around to the idea by then...I don't know what the hell we were going to do!

Now feeling a little calmer over the situation with Ron, I realised I was actually hungry. My appetite had been iffy for days and especially in the mornings when I couldn't face the mere thought of food. But now, knowing it was important that I eat sensibly, I made some toast and managed to keep it down. I felt a little lost after I'd eaten as I wiped up the kitchen. I needed something to distract myself with until Ron eventually returned home, otherwise I might be tempted to chase after him and force him to face this.

Ideally, I would have liked to nip to Diagon Alley and find those books I wanted, but the last thing we needed was the whole Wizarding Community gossiping about my new choice of reading material before we'd had chance to get used to the idea ourselves. Instead, I settled myself into the easy chair in the reading nook Ron had built for me our first Christmas in this house, and began to summon books from the shelves surrounding me. There had to be something about magical pregnancies and babies in some of them.

I woke with a start, bent over a book open on my lap and finding the room rather dim now since daylight hours were waning. I must have been asleep a few hours I realised as I yawned and rubbed an eye with my knuckle, discovering I was wrapped in a blanket. Ron, I smiled. He was home and he did care, bless him. It was these simple little things he did that made me love him so.

Clattering from the kitchen, as well as a delicious aroma gave away his location and I was surprised to find the smells were making me hungry – the toast seemed a long time ago now. A quick visit to the loo was needed before I went to find him in the kitchen.

"What smells good?" I asked, heading for the pot simmering on the stove. He was at the counter, slathering thick slices of bread with butter and setting a tray up for me. See, little sweet gestures again.

"Oh," he turned startled, obviously not realising I was awake. "Erm..." he rubbed the back of his neck – a nervous habit of his – and looked rather guiltily at his feet. "It's, erm...chicken soup," he finally replied. "Mum's recipe. I remembered Harry once mentioning it was the only thing Ginny could stomach for the first few weeks with James, so I thought..." he faded off, his ears turning pink and I knew he was feeling self conscious about it, as though he'd said too much.

"Thank you," I smiled and kissed his cheek. "It smells really good." I added, lifting the lid for a peak.

"Well, go take a seat. It should be ready, I'll bring you a bowl through." He brightened and busied himself with finding two bowls and cutlery.

We ate side by side in the lounge from trays on our laps, in silence. The soup was delicious and I practically scraped the bowl clean as well as nibbled on the fresh crusty bread that Ron had thought to bring home from the bakery because he knew it was my favourite. I noted he'd also fixed himself a sandwich to go with his soup, I smiled wryly at his appetite.

"That was wonderful," I smiled at him, setting the tray on the coffee table as I finished.

"Thanks," he mumbled through a mouthful of his last bite of sandwich. Once done, he set his tray down beside mine and brushed the crumbs from his fingers as he leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees and gazing at the floor. Then he inhaled deeply and turned his head to look at me. "I'm sorry I'm such a prat!" he blurted out. "You really should have married someone not so much of an idiot," he grimaced.

"I married the man I love," I replied with a soft smile.

He pushed himself up and slid along the sofa to sit closer beside me. "I am sorry I ran out on you, again." He spoke quietly, avoiding eye contact with me. "I just, needed to think – you took me surprise and I didn't know what to say or do about it."

"Where did you go?" I wondered.

"I wasn't really thinking about it, but I ended up at Shell Cottage," he replied. "I spent some time walking on the beach, until I went to see Bill. He's always treated me fair and stuff, listened to me and given me straight advice."

"And did he give you any advice this time?" I asked, thinking that maybe I should talk to someone in the family too – they'd been through this themselves after all.

He snorted a laugh. "Yeah, if you call him telling me to grow up and deal with it advice," he rolled his eyes. "I am sorry love, I know I made you cry and," he inhaled deeply. "I just...I panicked. That was the last thing I was expecting. I mean, I thought you had that plan." He chanced a brief sideways glance my way.

"I'm learning that plans can change. But, this has taken me by surprise too. I wasn't really expecting a positive result when I did those tests. I mean, we haven't exactly been trying to get pregnant," I nudged his shoulder.

He blushed at that, we'd both been so busy with work the last couple of weeks and spending any free time with family that we'd been too tired for making love in the last few days. At least I knew now there was a reason for the extreme fatigue I'd been feeling. "Yeah," he whispered, wistfully.

"But, I am pregnant and I think I'm coming to terms with the fact we're going to have a baby. I know it's slightly earlier than we agreed, but -" I shrugged "-it's a baby Ron, our baby. Our daughter and I want you to be pleased, to be happy about this. Because...because I think I am," I confessed.

He looked up, a startled look in his eyes. "You are?"

"I think so. We have always planned to have children someday. I want to be a Mum and I know you'll be a wonderful Dad. I don't even think I care any more that it's a year or so earlier than what we decided. I think I've finally realised you can't plan life! She's coming along now and that's, well that's okay."

"Wow," he breathed, reaching silently for my hand.

"You didn't think I would be?" I asked.

He grinned wryly, shooting me a subtle glance. "I know how you like your plans." He gave me a lopsided grin.

"Hey!" I shoved his arm playfully and he laughed. "So, erm, how do you feel about it now?" I wondered, daring to ask. I don't think I could bear it if he said he didn't want the baby. I was already in love with her.

He inhaled slowly and then let it out even slower. "Scared," he confessed quietly.

"Do you think I'm not?" I squeezed his hand. "I'm terrified. I think I've experience about a million different emotions since that potion turned pink!"

He kissed the back of my hand he was holding and toyed with the wedding band on my finger. "I just, I don't want to fuck this up, you know?"

I frowned at him, flummoxed that he had no confidence in himself as a father. "Why would you even think? Ron you're going to be amazing at this, being a father to our children. Look how you manage Victoire and Teddy and James and everyone? You're brilliant with them and I can confidently say your James' favourite uncle." I smiled at him.

He looked up and shrugged. "It's different though, isn't it? Just being the Uncle. I don't have to worry about all the...messy stuff. I have no stinky nappies to change, I'm not up all night with feedings and teething or nightmares. I don't have to worry about them getting ill or whether they're eating enough. I don't even have to reprimand them. I just get to play and goof around, then hand them back to their parents all hyped up!" He laughed lightly to himself, probably remembering all the times he'd done that.

I stared at him wide eyed, once again amazed with him. "You know, the fact you've even considered all that stuff proves your going to be an amazing parent. Because I haven't even thought about any of that yet."

"Huh, you're slacking!" He nudged me playfully again.

I kissed the top of his head. "You'll find a balance between the fun and the responsible stuff Ron. And the fact is, I can't do this without you. I'm going to need you more than ever. So...if this isn't what you want then..."

"Hey, hang on," he cut in, holding his hand up. "Don't go thinking of doing anything stupid because of me. That's not what I meant."

"Stupid?" I asked, not understanding what he meant, but realising I did sound stupid repeating his word.

"Yeah, you know," he lowered his voice, as though he didn't want to explain. "Getting an abortion or..."

"Ron," I grabbed his hand. "Love...I would never. I couldn't." I tried to reassure him. "I mean, I do believe in a woman's right to choose what's best for her. But, that would never be my personal choice. I'd have this baby either way. What I _was_ going to say before I was interrupted," I eyed him sternly, "is that if this isn't what you want, then you're going to have to get used to the idea, because we _are_ having this baby and our baby needs her daddy and I need you."

He reached over and kissed my cheek, then my lips softly, relieved. "I do want her." He admitted, almost in a whisper. "I mean, I'm shitting myself about the whole thing, but, I want her."

"Good...because you're the one who's going to have to remind me to relax and not get stressed about everything. You're going to have to teach me how to have fun and be silly with our little girl and how to be a good Mum."

"You'll be a good Mum," he kissed my cheek again. "And you'll have to help me when she needs telling off and how not to let her walk all over me," he laughed and I knew he was already envisioning her as I had.

"We'll do it together Ron, we'll work together," I sidled up to him, placing my head on his shoulder. "Because we're a team, you and me...we're a family." I sighed as he wrapped an arm around me. "And, I'll get us some books that will help us both." I added.

He gasped. "You mean you haven't raced off to the library or the book shop yet?" He mocked,

"Haha!" I rolled my eyes. "I will soon. I just didn't really find the idea of people gossiping about our personal life appealing. And you know they will, over something like this."

He nodded in agreement.

"Actually," I started. "I'd rather keep this just between the two of us for now. At least until I've had my first appointment at the hospital." I added.

"Is...is there a chance the test was wrong?" he looked almost alarmed, whipping his head up and causing mine to fall from his shoulder in his haste.

"No. I was very careful to follow the potion exactly. There is no mistake about it, I am pregnant."

"Good," he whispered under his breath. And then looked at me wide eyed, as though he couldn't believe those words came from his mouth.

"Good?" I queried, hesitantly.

"Yeah," he smiled and nodded to himself. "Good. I _do_ want this Hermione." He pulled me back into his arms. "As bloody terrifying as it all is, it is kind of exciting. I mean a bit, right?"

"It is," I agreed, giving him a watery smile. "You did hear me say it's a girl, right?"

He nodded as his smile grew, lighting up his entire face and meeting his eyes for the first time since I'd told him. "I did and she's going to be beautiful," he decided. "Just like her Mum." He kissed the top of my head.

"Thanks," I smiled. "Her daddy is rather handsome too," I whispered, snuggling into him.

"Oh!" he suddenly gasped and stood up, almost making me fall sideways. "Be right back," he told my bemused expression as he darted into the kitchen and back again. "I almost forgot," he began as he approached me, holding something behind his back. "I erm...I bought these for you. To apologise and because I love you and...to say congratulations." he beamed, handing me a bunch of perfect red rose buds.

"Thank you," I accepted the flowers and buried my nose in their fragrance. "They're lovely, but you didn't have to..."

"Just, when I saw them, still in bud, it got me thinking. They're kind of like our baby, aren't they?" he asked. I wasn't following his meaning at all. "I mean, they're still in bud for now, not quite ready yet. But soon, they'll bloom and be beautiful and make the house colourful, cheerful. Kind of like the baby, our baby," he mumbled, turning redder the more he went on, aware he was being soppy.

A lone tear escaped my eye as I set my flowers down and pulled him to me, so as he crashed onto his knees in front of me. "I love you Ronald Weasley, so very much," I told him, between kissing his lips. "I'm so lucky to have you, even if you can still sometimes be a bit foolish, you're my fool and I love you."

He kissed me again, his lips grinning against my lips as he did.

"Ssh," he whispered softly as he pulled back. "Don't go letting on to our daughter that her Dad is a bit of a prat, won't give her much faith in me, will it?" He looked down to my stomach then and placed his hands gently, almost reverently, where our baby was growing within. "I want to promise you right now, sweetheart, that I will do my best not to screw up as your Dad. And I also promise to be there through all this for your Mum, because there is no one I love more than my two precious girls," he placed his lips against my belly, through my jumper and then raised his head to share another sweet kiss with me.

As he pulled back, brushing my hair from my face and trailing his fingers down my cheek, I glanced at my flowers again, vaguely thinking I should put them in some water, when I made a sudden, rather sentimental, decision. "Rose," I whispered, putting a hand to my own stomach as Ron still knelt on the floor between my legs. "I like that," I nodded. "I like that a lot." I murmured before he took me in his arms once more, claiming even more kisses to celebrate the growth of our family.

* * *

Reviews are loved and much appreciated...my only payment for writing and sharing with you!

Btw...my new multi chapter fic is finished...and I'm already working on another one. Plus I still have about 4 shorter stories to post :)

Thanks again, xC


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